


Key

by Sojmilk



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock - Fandom, Sherlock BBC
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-22 12:17:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8285566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sojmilk/pseuds/Sojmilk
Summary: John wakes from a nightmare in the middle of the night, screaming for Sherlock, and they share a moment.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A quick fluffy piece that's been in my mind for a while

_"Take cover!"_

_The order was unnaturally loud, to combat the sounds of gunfire. John sheltered in the trench, arms, shaking, over his head._

_He wasn't meant to be in the midst of the fighting. He was a doctor._

_But right now -_

_\- right now, he was a soldier._

_The ground shook with the force of the grenade that had just been thrown, not far from the trench._

_John saw the second one too late, but Goldie didn't._

_The older man threw himself onto the live grenade, curling around it._

_John cried out, just as the explosion tore through Goldie's spine._

_And now everything was quiet - unnervingly so._

_He moved slowly, as if through water, to reach his friend._

_Goldie lay motionless, torn apart, but on his mouth was a smile, satisfaction at the rescue of the other men in the trench._

_Tears, scalding hot, nearly too hot to  bear, burned down John's face as he stared at the figure that had, moments before, been his best friend._

_A bullet thudded into his shoulder as he stood, and he yelled out in pain, the world coming back into focus. The pain was unbelievable._

_He pressed a hand to his shoulder, and pulled it away, slick with blood. He spun wildly, and somebody's rifle hit him in the head._

_John fell to the ground, hit it with a_ crunch  _as his wrist snapped._

_In the moments before darkness clouded his vision,_

_his fellow soldiers_

_died_

_in front of him._

_and he screamed_

_"SHERLOCK!"_

 

John woke, his breathing labored, his mouth dry.

The residual anxiety from his nightmare remained, and he pressed a hand to his shoulder. To make sure.

It was wet, and he flicked on the light in terror.

There was no blood.

It was just sweat.

He was safe.

 

The light in the hallway turned on, and a moment later, Sherlock burst in.

"John!" He stopped in the doorway. "Are you ok?"

John, still shaken, nodded uncertainly.

"Yeah - it was just a nightmare. It's - I'm fine," he said, trying to keep the waver out of his voice.

Sherlock - sweet Sherlock, with his inability to interpret human emotion - chose this one time to understand.

"No, John, I don't believe that's true. Come into the kitchen. I'll make you some tea." He started out the door before turning around again.

"And - bring that blanket. Blankets are good for shock."

Sherlock's brisk concern brought a faint smile to John's face, and he complied.

The kitchen smelled smoky, and there was something indistinguishable on a skewer over a Bunsen burner. Sherlock glanced at it, and turned it off.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

John barely had to consider the request.

"No."

Sherlock nodded, and set a mug of tea in front of John.

"Thanks, Key."

He froze.

'Key' was a nickname with which he'd been toying with the idea of for some weeks now, but he'd never meant to use it.

"I - I'm sorry - I know that you think nicknames are lazy, I-"

"No," said Sherlock. "I, uh, I actually quite like it."

He sat down next to John, his own mug of tea in his hand.

John, deciding he must be still in shock, and that therefore his actions could be excused in the morning, leaned forward until his lips were only a fraction from Sherlock's.

He hovered for a moment, realizing what he was doing.

And Sherlock bridged the gap, his own, smooth lips, barely brushing on John's.

It lasted only a moment, but it left the both of them breathless.

"My Key."

 

**Author's Note:**

> eurghhh how soppy  
> if any of you nerds like this kind of shit, well, i'm glad.


End file.
